A Night Out
by cmr2014
Summary: A botched attempt to escape the insurance girls leads to a chance of concussion, leading to doctor's orders for Vash to be up all night. Worse, he still can't escape because he's handcuffed to Meryl. Sometimes you just have to make the best of it.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

**A Night Out**

The hotel room was stuffy with heat. Far too stuffy. It was time –

The knob of the locked door rattled. The person on the other side pounded.

– it was _definitely_ time to go.

The window resisted his efforts to get it open. The reputation of Vash the Stampede was mighty and feared, but the stubborn window was not impressed.

Finally, with it mocking him every step of the way, he managed to get it open. Took some elbow grease and a little swearing, but he did it. Stopped to take a couple seconds to bask in triumph; noticed that the pounding at the door had stopped.

Grabbed and shouldered his pack. Grinned in anticipation of the coming chase. Meryl Stryfe could be bitchy, but she definitely made life interesting.

From the other side of the door came heavy footsteps.

He stuck his head out the window to look for a suitable landing spot, in the process bending over and exposing his flank to attack from the rear.

The door was blasted straight in by a projectile from Milly Thompson's stun gun, taken clear off its hinges.

Meryl Stryfe (of the Bernardelli Insurance Society) burst in, accusing finger pointed like a weapon all its own. "_AHA!_ You thought you could escape, but no one escapes from Derringer –" Her speech trailed off as her scanning eyes caught no trace of her intended target.

"Milly!" she directed. "Check the closet and under the bed. We'll clear this floor and then start a radial search pattern. He's not getting away this time!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Milly hustled to follow orders.

Meryl looked at the blasted-in door. It was an old trick, but – "Hiding behind the door, are you? It won't do you –" Stopped as she jerked on the door and it fell over, revealing nothing but an empty window.

Seething with frustration, she stuck her head out the window. "You can run, Vash the Stampede, but you can't hide!"

A weak "Help me," caught her attention, and she looked down to find her prey in a crumpled heap.

Her voice conveyed the only thought that went through her mind: "_EEEK!_"


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Few things mean more to me than to be regarded as a standup guy. A standup guy is a man of honor – among other things, he carries his weight, keeps his word, and can be trusted to have your back even when life deals you aces and eights. One of the most standup guys I know is named Chris Johnson. It's an honor to be allowed the use of your name, brother.

Vash was just buttoning up his coat, doctor's examination of him finished.

"What were you doing leaning out a second-story window?" the doctor inquired as he let Meryl and Milly into his office's examination room.

"Not intending to get pushed out by a flying door," Vash stated dryly, scowling at Milly. She flushed with color and looked away.

"Never mind the how," Meryl said. "It happened, we're at the doctor's office now, the only thing of importance is, is he going to be ok?" It was not concern for him, she told herself; a hurt Vash meant more paperwork, was all.

"There's no major physical damage," the doctor pronounced, "which is amazing in and of itself. But considering that Mr. – Johnson, was it? – that Mr. Johnson landed squarely on his head, there is a possibility that he could have a concussion or similar condition."

"How big of a possibility?" Meryl asked, wearing a trace of a worried frown.

The doctor shrugged. "In most people, I would say it's very likely. But again, there are no signs of any serious injury – from the fall, at least. The amount of damage from previous –"

"Just the facrs, doc," Vash cut in, eyes sending a warning to the physician. Meryl made a _continue_ motion with a wave of her hand, but the doctor heeded the warning with a clearing of his throat.

"My point is, from the physical evidence a concussion does not seem probable, but with head injuries caution is always wise. Normally, I would keep the patient awake and under observation for twenty-four hours. However, given that the patient seems in good health – and since I have a date tonight – I'm going to let Mrs. Johnson here –"

"I'm not his wife!" Meryl interjected at the same time as Vash blurted, "She's not my wife!"

The doctor looked back and forth between them. "Then why does your paperwork list the patient as Chris Johnson with spouse of Meryl Johnson?"

Two glares were directed at Milly, who found something interesting to stare at on the ceiling. If Meryl had known her partner would pull something like this, she would have handled the paperwork herself.

"Ok, fine, I'm his wife./Ok, fine, she's my wife," came the dual mumbles.

The doctor sighed and wiped his glasses with a handkerchief. "Regardless of who actually is whom, I still have a date to get ready for, so the young lady here will need to watch the young man here for the next twenty-four hours. If he makes it to morning without needing any further treatment, including pain relievers, then it's my professional opinion that he won't have to come back here and can go about his business. Remember – don't let him fall asleep, and watch for any erratic behavior."

The last sentence caused Meryl to roll her eyes. Vash the Stampede was the most erratic man she knew – an annoying imbecile most of the time, yet with the light of kindness in his eyes; but when the situation called for it, the most coolly dangerous man she had ever seen.

"Most importantly," the doctor continued, "don't forget to pay your bill before you leave." With that, he hustled them out of his office.

Out in the street, Vash was debating whether to make a break for it when he heard two _crrrrk_ sounds and felt something tugging at his wrists. Looked at Milly on his left. Looked at Meryl on his right. They each grinned and held up a hand they had handcuffed to his.

"You heard the man," Meryl told him. "You're not going anywhere but back to the hotel, and you're going to stay there where we can keep an eye on you until we can be sure you don't have a head injury."

He groaned at the denial of his freedom. "Aw, man!"


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

The window was nailed shut – against hotel rules, but it was amazing how money could inflict temporary blindness where rule violations were concerned. Meryl's bed was moved from her room into Vash's. Milly was free to tend to paperwork and grab some shut-eye, as the plan was to watch him in shifts. Meryl had first watch and remained cuffed to Vash; she felt bad about the window incident and absolutely would not allow him out of her sight if there was a chance, however slim, that he could have a head injury. Her job was to neutralize his risk potential, not get him killed.

Dinner was brought up by Milly, eaten on table trays from the pushed-together beds. Meryl enjoyed her meal, but Vash had _specifically_ asked for salmon sandwiches, and got tuna sandwiches instead. Also, he had asked for beer, and she brought root beer. He groused the whole way through. If Milly were a waitress, she would get no tip from him.

"Food is food," Meryl told him. "If you hadn't tried to run away from us, you would have been able to get your own food, so it's really your fault."

"Everything is my fault, according to you!"

Meryl shrugged. "Not everything; just everything since I met you."

Sulked and chewed his sandwich. Swallowed. Bah – somebody went overboard on the mayo. "You _did_ go out of your way to meet me. Not like it was the other way around."

Meryl dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "It was my job to meet you, just as it's my job to put up with you. The sooner you accept that I am now a permanent part of your life, the less things like being defenestrated will happen to you."

"What's defensed – demonstrated – what's that word you used mean?"

Sipped at her own root beer. "Defenestrated. Knocked out a window."

Snort. "Those kinds of things wouldn't happen if you'd stop making them happen," he countered.

"Any time Milly and I cut you slack, you run away. That just is not acceptable within the parameters of our assignment. I won't give in, and neither will you. Unstoppable force, meet immovable object."

"Which one are you?"

"The one handcuffed to you."

Vash groaned, pushing away his tray and falling back on the conjoined beds. Meryl yelped as she was inadvertently taken with him.

She was about to scold him when he rolled over. His arm loosely around her waist silenced her retort and caused a blush she hoped he didn't see.

His breath tickled her ear. "Look out the window."

Meryl's eyes were used to scanning for threats. "I don't see anything."

"Because you're not looking. Just take it all in. The last little bit of sunset before it's dark. Fireworks you don't have to pay to see. Just look."

She did. The horizon was a bright blazing red, fading to purple a little higher, then the dark inky shade of oncoming night higher than that. Minutes passed, and the red color grew more intense – as though the lower the binary sunlight sunk, the more determined it was not to fade. It clashed with the growing twilight colors, bathing everything around in shades of red, orange, and violet.

Vash was right – Meryl was watching nature's own fireworks.

The light died, but not before giving its brightest red-orange flash over everything. Then it winked out. It would be a little while before the stars and moon gave their silver light; for now, it was dark, leaving just the flickering lights of the town and the dim lamplight of Vash's room.

"That really _was_ amazing," Meryl murmured.

"Told you." She could feel his smug grin.

Found herself settling back against him, enjoying the feel of his arm. This felt good, she thought dreamily…

Eyes snapped open as she shook her head and threw his arm off. "We're supposed to stay awake all night." Twisted around to face him. "It's for your own good."

Vash had his head propped on his cuffed hand. Just looked at her. The intensity in his sea-green eyes made her uncomfortable. She looked away.

Free hand touched her chin, gently steering her back to his gaze. His eyes were so very intense as they locked with hers…

"Why do you run?" Meryl blurted.

"You saw the fireworks. Can't you tell?"

Shook her head no, still held by his eyes. Vash smiled as a thought came to him.

"Well, since you're supposed to keep me up all night – come with me and let me show you why."

Head cocked. "Come where?"

He grinned as he jangled the cuffs and pulled her to sit up with him. "Only one way to find out." Proceeded to pull her off the bed and out the door.

"Where are we going?" Meryl demanded, curious enough to not fight as he took her with him.

"Gotta stay up, right? We're getting some night air."

Not offering a chance to gather her wits and resist, Vash pulled Meryl downstairs, through the small hotel lobby, and outside into the fresh night.

"Feel that," he said.

"What?" Like when he had first asked her to look out the window, she couldn't pick up on anything.

"The night, insurance girl. Feel how the breeze has cooled down. Feel how there's no four walls around you. Just take it in for a minute." Breathed deeply. Wondering what he was on about – it was night, for crying out loud, it tended to happen on a regular basis – Meryl followed, inhaling deep and blowing out.

It took several respirations, but she did begin to notice a difference. The open air _did_ feel better than inside – cooler, a little more rejuvenating. It felt good.

"C'mon." She felt him tug her and lead the way.

"Where are we going?" she asked again.

"Anywhere," Vash said. "Everywhere. Quit worrying about where we're going, just take in where we are."

"In a street in a town at night," Meryl retorted.

He stopped, causing her to bump into him. "Quit stopping and starting, you big oaf!"

Turned to face her. Moved his booted foot on the ground. "Hear that?"

"No!" she snapped, feeling mildly foolish over this whole thing.

"Listen." He moved his foot again. "You can hear the rocks shifting underneath. Happens every day. People walk here, rocks shift under them. Over time, the rocks wear away, grind into sand. Move your foot, move a rock, take a few atoms off. Make the rock a little closer to being sand."

Meryl was getting impatient. "And?"

"Every step you take – every step anyone takes – changes the world."

Her impatience fizzled a little. She had never thought of it that way.

"Hear what happens when you move. Feel the breeze on you. Take a look at the sky."

She did. The stars had come out, already giving some light to the sky; moonlight was beginning to be added to the luminescence.

"You can't count all the stars. But each one of them is a separate thing. And somewhere out there is Earth. Who knows? Maybe other missions were launched, like the SEEDS ships that crashed here. Maybe out there, right now, there's a whole new world being built. You ever think that we don't have to be the last people?"

Meryl snorted in derision. "It sounds nice, but I have to live in reality."

Vash shrugged and continued her on their walk. Pointed at various buildings lit by street lamps, some windows lit, some not. "Over there – a family lives there, husband and wife, two kids. They've gone to bed early because everyone has to work in the morning, even the kids. But that one there, the father's asleep, but the mom stays up late helping her daughter study for school. This one, those two shadows are the kids staying up late – their parents would be mad if they knew, but they're pretending they're camping and reading ghost stories.

"That one we just passed – they don't have much, but every night before they go to bed, they thank God because they have each other and tomorrow's another chance to make it better."

"How do you know all this?" Meryl asked him, pulled in despite herself. Experience had proven he had a way of knowing things he shouldn't.

His grin was lopsided. "I don't. But there's what the world is, then there's what you make of it."

She was going to issue a sharp reply, but something else came forth. "Why do you wear the red coat?"

Vash blinked. "Odd question."

"Will you answer it?"

Pursed his lips, wondering how much to tell. "I knew someone whose favorite color was red."

"Who?"

Shrugged, waiting a couple beats while he thought. "She wasn't my mother. But she raised me."

Meryl filed that piece of information away. "Why a coat, though?"

Hesitated, then told her, "There are things about me no one should see."

She nodded sagely and patted his shoulder. "It's ok, I see now. You have embarrassing tattoos."

Vash faked a short coughing fit to hide his laughter. If she wanted to think he had bad skin art instead of what he was really covering up, why stop her?

"So what about you?" he asked when he was done. "Any souvenirs?"

"No."

Her answer was a little too quick, and he couldn't hide his smirk. "What are they?"

There was a harsh pull on his wrist, a reminder that he was not the only one who could play handcuff tug-of-war. Decided he would not push the matter.

But Meryl took his silence for a waiting pause and presently said, "There's just the one. It's – it's on my lower back. What's so funny?" she demanded at his chortle.

"Miss Professional has a tramp stamp!"

He felt another pull on his wrist, even harder this time. "It is _not_ a tramp stamp. It is – well, it _was_ very tastefully done. But it was a mistake, and has since been blacked out."

Meryl hoped he didn't feel her grow warm when he took her hand in apology.

"I'm sorry if I was a little cavalier. People tend to take tattoos lightly. You know, there was a time when they held great significance, marking events or loved ones or status. Now, every wannabe tough guy has one."

"Your apology is accepted." She was a little surprised to have heard him apologize.

"One other question – where'd you learn how to use handcuffs the way you do?"

That was a little more like the jerk she was used to. He caught her blush as she said, "Shut up."

Chuckled at having pushed her buttons and continued leading her through town.

"Do you have any place in particular you're taking me?"

"No," he replied. "We're just out walking. You wanted to know why I run, maybe you'll get an idea while we're out. That tattoo – bad memory?"

"It's complicated." Changed the subject. "You talked about a woman who wasn't your mother. Did you know your mother?"

It would be nice to have someone he could talk with about things, someone he could really be himself around out here. But with Knives waiting, it was too dangerous to let anyone know too much.

"No," he said guardedly. "I have a brother, but we haven't seen each other in many years. Things are –" He borrowed her phrasing. "– it's complicated."

"Vash the Stampede has a brother," she mused. "How interesting. Is he anything like you?"

Sigh. "No. We have fundamental disagreements over some very important things. I wish I could get him to see things my way, but the last time we saw each other…things got heated." To put it mildly.

"Family can be tough," Meryl agreed. "But I've found in the end, they're always there for you. Even when you're not there for them."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Yeah." Her voice was somewhere in the past.

The gunman was quiet for a bit, letting the insurance girl have her thoughts. She eventually realized they were still holding hands.

"The tattoo," she said at last. "There was a guy I was with, but my parents didn't like him. He was wild and reckless and called no man 'sir', and I was young and stupid. They could see the truth about him, but I just _knew_ underneath everything was a diamond. When he asked me, I said yes and we ran away."

"How long did it last?" he asked quietly.

"Two years. If I was as smart as I thought I was, it would have lasted less than a minute. There was no diamond there; just a heart blacker than any coal."

"How'd it play out?"

"He had this derringer he liked to call his odds-evener. One night, I took it and woke him up. Put it in his mouth and told him I was done, and if I ever saw him again I'd kill him with his own gun. I took it with me and went home. My parents should have been mad, but you'd have thought I'd just been away at school, they were so happy to see me. What they did after that made me even more ashamed I'd treated them so callously."

Vash waited.

Eventually she said, "The Bernardelli Insurance Society won't hire you unless you have an insurance license. Even Milly had to get hers before she was hired."

"Ok."

"Not ok." Her voice was just above a whisper. "I treated my parents like they were less than dirt by running away; but when I came back, they paid for my training, and they paid for my licensing exam. My father had to nearly break his back to earn the money for it, but they gave me everything I have. It still bothers me so much I can't bring myself to write home as much as I should."

Vash glanced over, saw tears forming. But he turned his gaze back straight – some things you left alone.

After a minute or so of silent walking, he glanced over again. Her eyes were dry.

"Has there been anyone since?"

"No," Meryl stated, steel in her voice now. "The job comes first. And I learned my lesson. I'm nobody's punching bag, nobody's plaything. I won't be hurt again."

"No offense, but you seem kind of young to be so old."

"I told you, I live in reality. When I ran away, I was fourteen. My eighteenth birthday present was taking the exam for my insurance license. I passed, was accepted into Bernardelli, and have been there ever since."

"And how long is that?"

Snort. "Quit trying to figure out how old I am."

Vash laughed softly. "I'll quit trying to figure you out when you quit trying to figure me out."

"Touché," Meryl conceded. "But I've told you enough about me."

"Not really. Why insurance? It seems pretty boring for someone who wears a cape full of guns and chases me here, there, and everywhere."

Eyes unfocused as she thought it over. "People think insurance is boring," she said finally. "But it's order in a chaotic existence. And it's help – somebody loses everything they've got, having insurance helps them put their life back together. That's a good thing."

"Still boring."

"Everything has its boring side. But you get out in the field, working investigations and risk prevention – there's something about being out on the sharp end. You swear you hate it, but deep down you love it. You feel…it sounds odd to talk about insurance this way, but when you're in risky situations, you just feel…"

"Alive," Vash finished for her with a quick grin. "I can't really explain it, either, but you're right, there's something about it that's unlike anything else. More than an adrenaline rush, more than a cheap thrill. Some people are just born to run toward the danger."

"Born to it," she reflected. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just naturally drawn to danger." As she looked at the most dangerous man in the world.

His grin widened. "I'll say this for you, insurance girl – underneath the bitchiness, you're not such a pain in the ass, after all."

"You still are." But she said it with a smirk.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Lyrics to "Walkin' After Midnight" by Patsy Cline

Lyrics to "Children of Jack" by Guy Forsyth

The farther they walked, the less lamplight there was and the more the desert nightlife began to make itself known.

"What's that song you're humming?"

"Hmm?" He looked at her, blinked, then started to sing.

"I go out walkin', after midnight  
Out in the starlight, just hoping you may be  
Somewhere a-walkin' after midnight  
Searchin' for me…"

"The outlaw can sing," Meryl noted. "That's a nice song, too. Where'd you learn it?"

Shrug. "You hang around, you pick up things."

"Is it really after midnight?"

"Probably. This is summer, so sunset wasn't until late. And we've been out a while, wandering around."

"We should get back."

"Not yet," he said. "You haven't gotten your question answered. You might get it now."

"Why now?"

"Stop. Look. Listen."

She looked around. "We've gone straight out of town."

"Uh-huh. Here, sit down with me and watch the show." Gently tugged her down with him as he knelt and sat down in the sand.

The night sky was in full pale light, casting a silvery halo over the dark desert. It took Meryl a few seconds, but she saw soon enough what he was talking about as she realized the twinkling of the stars was being replicated in the desert. Hundreds, for all she knew thousands, of little pale twinkles were floating throughout the desert air, winking on and off.

"Amazing," she breathed. "I haven't watched twinkle bugs since I was a kid."

"It's really something, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Looked away from the sight and up at him. "This is their mating ritual, right?"

"Yep. I've heard that on the SEEDS ships, there were different species taken from Earth for terraforming. One of them was something called a firefly. Some people think at least some of the fireflies survived the Fall, and twinkle bugs are their descendants, genetically adapted to Gunsmoke."

"Twinkle bugs, SEEDS, singing...you're full of surprises. Where do you get all this stuff from?" she wondered out loud.

"You'll find the more you listen to people, the more things you pick up." That sounded suitably vague enough, just enough truth to not really be a lie but not the real answer.

Meryl turned back to watching the little bugs light on and off. They sat in silence, just enjoying the scene before them in the cool air.

Eventually, Vash spoke. "Part of why I run is there's no walls out here, insurance girl. No worries about how much money you have. No getting so caught up in life you forget to live. Just being where you are, and then the next day you're someplace else with something new."

She frowned. "I like where we are right now, but I don't think I understand you."

Answered her frown with a smile. "Sure you do, you just don't know it. It's the reason you like being in the field – you feel alive. I like moving, seeing what comes next." It wasn't the full truth, but how could anyone understand the truth about him and Knives?

She was still frowning.

"Don't think about it too much," he told her. "Just take it for what it is."

Meryl shrugged, then gasped as he stood up, taking her with him. Pulled her close, taking the hand that was cuffed to his, and began to move her around.

"What are you doing?" she managed to squeak. He was far too close; she remembered the way she had felt with his arm around her, watching the sunset. That was not the way a professional should feel about her job – yet she found she did not want to pull away.

"Taking it for what it is," Vash replied. "Feel the music in the air."

"What music?"

She was so close she felt his chest vibrate as he gave her music.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?

As a matter of fact, I do

Every time that I open my eyes

That saying comes true…"

Vash's eyes were burning with intensity again as he looked into Meryl's. She forgot how ridiculous it was that she was dancing in the middle of the night with a wanted outlaw, with no music except the words he sang. A melody created itself in her head, and the combined twinkles of the stars in the sky and the bugs around them made her dare to imagine they were dancing on nothing but air.

"…And I'll play you the songs that I've written

And the ones that I can't seem to write

Maybe you'd know what you're missing

Maybe you'd stay past the night…"

If this was the kind of thing he felt wandering from place to place, then Meryl could begin to understand why Vash would want to run free.

The reality she lived in was obliterated when he leaned down and kissed her, making flashes of light explode across the blank space of her closed eyes..


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

The sky was violet by the time they were back at the hotel. The night was slowly coming to an end, daylight preparing to lay its claim.

Padded up the stairs and quietly let themselves back into the room. Meryl was still halfway in a dreamlike state from her night with Vash. There was so much she had discovered about him in the course of one night, and so much she had yet to find out. He was still very much a mystery to her.

She liked kissing him, though.

They lay down together, Meryl nestled against Vash in the crook of his arm. He absentmindedly twirled her hair.

"Why do you always call me 'insurance girl'?" she murmured.

"Because that's what you are."

Her free arm went around his midsection, and she wished in spite of herself that his coat and clothes weren't between her skin and his. "It's not _who_ I am."

"You want me to say your name?"

"I do. It would be a nice end to a nice night."

"The night's not over yet," he observed with a seductive smile and gleam in his eyes.

Meryl raised her head. "I want you to say my name. Nothing else. I told you before, I won't be hurt again. And anyway, we just shouldn't –"

He placed a finger over her mouth, shushing her. "We definitely should. But we won't. Not tonight.

"Someday, though, we will. Once I've gotten some things settled. Once time shows you I won't hurt you. Someday."

"Someday," she agreed, privately looking forward to that day, whenever it might be.

Head cocked as another thought came to her. "Out there – you said it was only part of why you run. What's the other part?"

Right before he kissed her again, he whispered his secret confession in her ear: "I like it when you chase me…Meryl."


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

"Meryl! Meryl, wake up!" Meryl was jerked into consciousness by an earthquake – no, it was just Milly shaking her.

"Stop that, Milly! I'm awake."

"Why didn't you wake me up, Meryl?" Milly fretted. "You fell asleep, and now Mr. Vash is gone again!"

Meryl looked down at her hand. Saw an open cuff where not so long ago there had been a hand that was attached to the man who had held her close.

Smiled and chuckled to herself. So he could have gotten away any time he wanted, huh? That wonderful jerk.

Milly shook her again. "Snap out of it, Meryl! We have to go find him and make sure he's ok!"

"Will you stop treating me like a rag doll?" Meryl demanded. "Just relax, Milly. He was fine last I saw him; and if you look out the window, I think you'll find him within line of sight."

Her partner peered out. "You're right, Meryl! Why is he just standing there smirking like that? What does he think he's doing?"

Meryl smiled again, remembering the taste of his kiss. Remembering what Vash had told her.

"Waiting for me to chase him."


End file.
